


Letters From A Killer - Beyblade Style

by Chaos_In_Kaon



Category: Beyblade
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Pen Pals, Underage Drinking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_In_Kaon/pseuds/Chaos_In_Kaon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A project given by a substitute teacher results in Max, Tyson and Kai writing e-mails to strangers in a school in Russia. Befriending them was easy enough, and they soon realize they'll get to meet in person at the Beyblade Championship. What they don't know is that the Russians are only competing to win their freedom from the Abbey, where they live in torment for their past crimes, and they will do anything to get out. Their plan to befriend and gain trust from members of their opposing teams is a success, and next comes the part that comes easy for them; Getting rid of the competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Friendly Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> The story starts out tame, but with the Russians comes a great deal of violence, swearing and sex. Rated for that eventuality. Enjoy.

Letters From a Killer – Beyblade Style

 

Chapter 1 – A Friendly Exchange

 

The school's Creative Writing class was caught up to date on the scheduled curriculum, and the substitute minding the class that day had zero ambition to look for what came next. She sat behind the desk staring at the class before her, who, in turn, were staring back at her expectantly. She knew that she could look for the regular teacher's plan book, but that was a lot more effort than she was prepared to put forth, so, with a sigh, she swivelled her chair to the computer and started a search: “Ideas for a high school writing class”.

Most of the results were the same; Pick a topic, write an essay! Pick a topic, write a short story! Pick a topic, pick a topic, PICK A TOPIC! 

Well, that was no good. Picking a topic meant they would write something. That they would submit. That she would then have to read. And grade. Nope. 

She continued her search, scrolling through websites, when she found it, nestled far down, and not at all ostentatious; “Russian Finishing School Pen pal Exchange”. She clicked the link, and read the description briefy. From what she understood, it was simply a pen pal program through the school to improve writing skills. And it could be done by e-mail. She thought about how she didn't have to read the letters. Not checking them may let some swearing or insults pass through, but she could just say the kids slipped one past her. She is just a temp, after all, and barely out of school herself. She decided. 

She stood from her desk, and addressed the classroom. “Alright, it's not exactly what you would normally do in this class, but there's nothing left for me to give you. So we're going to go to the computer lab, I'm going to give you an e-mail address, and you're going to write a letter to that student. They're in Russia. I guess they speak English, if not, they can use a translator or something.” She said, leading the teens out of the class. 

\---

With the simple instructions of “Don't be an jerk”, and an e-mail address of some random Russian kid in hand, Max sat down to start his letter. 

He pondered over what to say for a while, studying the e-mail address in his hand, trying to imagine what this person could be like. It was a personal address, not one through the school, like Max was using. This kid could get this letter at home, and answer from there. It struck Max odd that a school would allow that, considering the program was a school sponsored one. The tapping of keys sounded, coaxing him out of his reverie. Opening his e-mail, he began typing, hoping what he had to say wasn't too bland or boring. Hoping it was enough to get a response. He knew the lazy Sub wasn't going to check them, but he was a high achiever, and he couldn't stand it if he didn't do well because his personality was crap.

Hey there!

I'm not really good at this kind of thing, but here goes!

My name is Max. I'm a student at Shambalah Academy in Japan. It's an English school. I'm originally from America, actually. I'm also into Blading. Beyblades, that is. Not sure if you're into it, but if you are, we have something in common! 

Both my parents are into it too; my Mom travels the world with her team, analyzing other teams and using the data to make hers the best. My Dad has a shop here in Japan where he sells parts and does repairs and stuff. It's cool that my family is such a big part of my favourite hobby. I'm even competing this year, which is pretty cool. If we do well, I'll get to travel lots, which is something else I love to do. Hey, if we get along, I might even get to see you, haha.

Well, Since I probably bored you to death, would it be troubling you too much to ask for some details about yourself? I'm always down for making new friends :)

Hoping to hear from you soon,  
Max T

 

\--

Throughout the lab, Both Tyson and Kai were also completing their letters. Kai's was a mirror of his feelings on the subject, cold and sullen, while Tyson, much like Max, enthusiastically wrote about himself and his favourite sport. His letter three times longer than anyone else's, he was the last to hit “Send”. 

When the bell rang, the teens began to stuff belongings into their bags and rise to their feet, preparing for the end of day stampede that began everyday at promptly 3:30pm. Tyson and Max left together, pushing their way through the crowd to get to Kai, who slipped out ahead of everyone, like he did every at 3:30pm. 

When the boys were all together, outside the big double doors of Shambalah, they kept an easy pace together, making way to Tyson's. “So!” Tyson crowed, clearly happy with himself after an hour of talking about his favourite person, “What did you guys write to the Russians?” Kai sighed. “That was a huge waste of time. I doubt anyone is even going to answer. Programs like this haven't been active for years.” Max shrugged. “I thought that too, at first, because we did pen pals in grade school. But when I saw my guys e-mail address, it was not only a personal e-mail, but the username wasn't... childish... enough. It was something that a teenager or young adult would use. I think we'll get something back, even if it's something like 'leave me alone you boring kid!'” He laughed, thinking privately that he may receive that very response. 

Kai just shook his head. Tyson wasn't fazed. “Well, I hope my guy likes Beyblading. 'Cause that's all I talked about!” 

They made it to Tyson's house, the conversation back to their normal banter. After a few hours of blading, and a big dinner served by the ever cheerful Grandpa, Kai and Max went home. 

The next morning was a Saturday, and Max woke up late. After his usual routine of morning necessities, he plunked himself down in his desk chair and booted up his computer. He was curious to see if he got a response yet. Logging into his school account, he checked his e-mail, kind of anxiously. There was a message in his inbox. He opened it, waiting for the dismissing message he was sure he was getting.

\--

Well hello, Max T

My name is Bryan. To answer your unspoken question, yes, I am into blading. I'm pretty good at it, too. My team is also competing, so as long as your team is decent, I see no reason why we can't meet up in our travels. 

I'm not really into talking about myself, but I'm open to questions if you have them. I don't get to talk to people much, so I'm afraid my conversation skills aren't up to par. Maybe that will get better through talking with you?

I do think though, that for further correspondence, I'd like to use only private e-mail addresses. I'm not a fan of the ones that the school administration can read. Not that I have anything to hide, it's just a bit of a tic of mine. For that reason, I'd like you to respond to me through your own address. If you'd be kind enough to indulge me?

I look forward to our conversations, Max. I think some good things will come of them.

Best regards,  
Bryan K

\-- 

Max stared at the screen, a little stunned. Not only was he not snubbed, this guy had something in common with him, and actually wanted to meet in person! Max felt elated. He had friends, but making new ones was hard for him. He was a happy kid, and most found that overbearing or annoying. He knew he had to reign himself in just a little, until he was sure this guy liked him. He was excited now at the prospect of going to the championship and meeting this guy, and then introducing the European stranger as a good friend of his, to his friends and family both. Usually he could only meet people through said family and small group of friends. This one, he made on his own. He didn't e-mail back right away, though. No, he had to think about what he wanted to say, and of course he would use his own e-mail! Again, not like Ms. Lazy Ass would care to check their progress. 

He checked the clock, saw it was 10:00am, and knew that Tyson would still be in bed, but Kai would be up. He called him, barely waiting for his greeting before he asked if he got a response too. “Yeah, I did.” Kai answered, sounding less than thrilled. “Well?” Max hedged, “What did they say? Who is it? A he or a she? What are they like?” “Uh, it's a guy, name is Spencer, didn't say a lot about himself. He's on a blading team. Trying for the championship, he said. Not much else, to be honest.”

Max was pleased. “He's probably on Bryan's team”, he said sagely. “He said they were really good and that we should meet up when we get there!” Kai hummed non-commitedly. “Yeah, we'll probably come across them somewhere.”  
They talked for a few more minutes before Max badgered Kai into coming to visit him, then hung up. He washed up and brushed his teeth, forgetting for the moment about Bryan and Spencer, and the wonder of Tyson's match. Instead, his mind was on the one topic that pulled the ever present smile from his lips. 

Kai lived alone. He was emancipated last year, and, because of his trust fund, he was allowed to get an apartment for himself. Being underage, he was only getting a modest 'allowance' from the fund on a monthly basis, enough for rent, food, and other necessities. He lived comfortably, albeit frugally, on his own. He claimed that was how he liked it, by himself, nobody going into the apartment save for himself and his case worker. Every two weeks, like clockwork, Tyson's brother Hiro would go over and do an inspection. 

Tyson and Max asked once what an inspection entailed. Hiro told them he basically went in and made sure that the place was clean, that the client was clean and keeping sober, in some cases, and that there was food in the fridge. He would check that the bills were being paid, and made sure that he was keeping himself at a standard that he wasn't a danger to himself. He told them this was the same for every client, and refused them any details into his findings at Kai's place. “If you want to know so bad, ask him yourself.” He told them. “It's not my place to go into such things if he doesn't offer it to you himself.” And that was the end of the conversation, and kind of the start of Max's worrying. 

He knew his friend was a loner, and that was ok. He knew that when he was able to coax him into visiting him at his house, or going to Tyson's, or spending the day blading somewhere, that he wasn't really bothering Kai, that deep down, he must have wanted company. He had days where he would flat out refuse him, though, and those were the days that worried him most. He worried his friend was depressed, or lonely, and that he was too embarrassed to ask for help or company. He sometimes worried that he wasn't good enough for Kai to call when he would get himself in those places. 

Max shook his head to clear it. No, he was Kai's friend, and today they were going to hang out here. They would have fun, they would talk, eat and be merry! Well, Max would. But if Kai was there, it made it a lot better. 

\--

“Enough on the computers. Get back to your training.” One of the coaches in the employ of the Abbey was pacing around the recreation area, shooing the teens away from their activities and pushing them back to their rigorous training schedules. Tala made sure to log out of his e-mail before shutting down the computer. No chance for the idiots working there to get a peek, he thought to himself. He got to his feet and joined his teammates, heading back to the practice area. Bryan, looking as cocky and self assured as ever, nudged Tala with an elbow. “So. How's your little pen pal?” “Full of himself.” The redhead answered, not smiling. “Much like yourself.” Both Bryan and Spencer laughed at that. “What else?” Spencer asked. Tala pursed his lips a little. “He's the head of their team. Says that they have past champions there. I looked him up, and he is Tyson Granger. The little asshole was telling the truth in his long winded story. Said he has Max Tate and Kai Hiwatari with him.” The other two looked at each other, Bryan smirking. “Yeah. We got them.”

Tala raised an eyebrow. “Really? It actually fell into place like that?” “Yep!” Bryan answered happily. “Then the plan will work.” Tala said simply. “I told him to e-mail back from his private address.” Said Bryan. “Me too.” Spencer added. “I have some people from the other teams messaging back now. Keep on the ones you get, screen them, find the best of the best, who we need to beat. We need to win this, you guys. We need to win our freedom. And if we have to do it by Beyblade or bloodshed, so be it.” “Not like that'd be the first time!” Bryan said, and they all laughed as they reached the training room in the basement of the building built by the Devil himself, their own personal Hell.


	2. You're Scheming on a Thing, That's Sabotage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly this chapter is the set up of the action. Some things explained and established. Enjoy

Letters From a Killer – Beyblade Style

Chapter 2 – You're Scheming on a Thing, That's Sabotage

 

Sunday was stormy. Rain poured down, bringing with it the kind of thunder and lightning and chill that kept everyone with no particular place to be inside. It was no different for Tyson, Max and Kai. Tyson was at his Grandpa's dojo, eagerly writing back to Tala, while Kai spent the morning at Max's house, playing video games, after a (mostly sleepless) sleepover. Max loved his sleepovers, and Kai was usually down to indulge him.

Max was his usual upbeat self, prattling on about everything under the sun, while Kai half listened, half lost in his own thoughts. He had responded to Spencer's e-mail, albeit suspiciously, and had received another response. It was fairly probing, which left Kai disconcerted. Questions about their team, their intent to compete, their travel plans... Not that the questions were invasive, and to the average guy, they may seem typical of conversation between two known bladers. But something still didn't sit well, and he wondered whether Tyson and Max had similar questions asked of them. He supposed he could ask, but if he was being overly sensitive about it for no reason, he didn't want to ruin his friends' attitude on their new pen pals.

Mumbling out an affirmative to Max's question about ordering in some takeout, he waited until Max left his room to raid the menu drawer before crossing the room to Max's computer, and opening his e-mail. The top message was from Bryan, dated for much earlier that morning. He listened for the sound of Max's returning footfalls, and, satisfied that Max was either still seeking his collection of menus or caught up talking to his dad, he opened the e-mail. 

\--

Hey Max

Glad to hear that you got to spend some time with your friend this weekend. You talk about this Kai a lot. You guys a thing? * wink wink nudge * Haha, nah, just teasin', but for real, you got a lot to say about him. Maybe you should be a thing. Keep me posted, dude. 

So, any updates on your travel plans? Hotel info and such? I'm really looking forward to meeting you, and maybe even having a friendly match away from the screaming crowds. I love the sport, but damn, I hate the crowds and noise, too much competition in some people... 

Well, I'm heading to bed dude. Where I imagine you are already, lol. Shoot me a line when you get up, if you're not too busy with Kai, since he's in your bed and all ;)

~B

\--

Kai closed the email and moved back to his previous spot. He pondered over the travel plan questions, wondering to himself whether or not it was worrying. Max was a talker, and, even without reading past e-mails, knew that all that information was probably offered up on a platter, and this Bryan guy was likely just following Max's cues, like a normal person would. Could be innocent, he supposed. But his guy, Spencer? Definitely probing. Kai offered up little more to their conversations than a greeting, some small talk, and maybe a blurb or two on blading.

Max returned then, hands full of paper takeout menus, and looking triumphant. “I think I found them all!” He announced. He plopped down next to Kai, and the two began their forage for good food in the pile of paper Hell in front of them. Kai pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind for now, ready to just enjoy his friends' company. Because, he thought, maybe Bryan touched on something that Kai was a little hesitant about; He did like Max's company a little more than he did his other friends, and cared for him in a way that often brought Max to the forefront of his thoughts when he was lying in bed alone some nights. So when Max leaned against him a bit to get a closer look at the Thai food menu in Kai's hand, Kai pressed back, just a little. 

\--

The Russians spent Sunday in Tala's room, plotting. Their quarters were on one of the lower levels of the Abbey. There were no windows, the air was stale, and the walls all plain concrete and stone, the drab gray of depression. The Russians were long since used to this, though, and their rooms were the one place they could escape to for a few hours a day to decompress. The Abbey's training programs were specifically designed to keep the bladers sharp, deadly, and angry. They were being groomed for brutal perfection, and they had everything they needed, naturally, and in spades. 

Gathered in the tiny room, the topic of conversation today was Kai. Spencer filled them in on his lacklustre replies to his questions, and, while admitting himself that Spencer wasn't particularly adept to conversation, Kai was by far the most resistant to questioning, out of all the candidates they've managed to contact. 

The plan at first was to seek out particular bladers. Since these people resided all over the globe, internet contact was the only viable option. Convincing Boris that they should be doing research on their opponents was fairly easy, and so they gained computer privileges. Finding a lot of the people on their list was also simple, and so through social media sites, contact was made, trust and intimacy earned, and information gained. They opened up a pen pal exchange through the Abbey's name, hoping to attract some stragglers. They set up enough e-mail accounts to seem like a classroom's worth, and the three of them checked all of them themselves.

It wasn't long after that did they attempt to gain some knowledge of how to get in touch with Tyson, the former champ, before realizing that he, along with Kai, Max, and Rey, were hard to track down, communication wise. It was sheer luck and coincidence that they checked their inboxes one day, each address received a message from a student at a school called the Shambalah Academy, and among the replies, three of the four boys they were looking for, had sent them a message.

So now that they had almost everyone they needed under their thumbs, they had to work on the few resistant ones. Kai was the hardest nut to crack. He answered questions readily enough, though he left out pertinent information. He would hedge around some of the questions, mostly the ones about their team. While they could gather pretty much all they needed from the other two, who were more than eager to talk, they would have liked to have the edge on the enigmatic blader who shared some of their heritage. So far, the only concrete information that they had on him was that he was a blader, was competing, and was open to a meeting. When pressed about his relationship with his team mates, he simply said that things between them were just fine, and left it at that. 

“Maybe we should try to get to them before the travel starts, kind of get a feel on their dynamic.” Tala suggested. “How the fuck are we supposed to get to Japan?” Bryan challenged. “I don't know, maybe Boris will send us when he sees what we're doing.” Bryan scoffed. “Boris doesn't give a shit whether we win or lose. He doesn't care if we go free from this shithole or not.” “But he does want the glory of being the coach of the winning team.” Tala pointed out. “If we win, we go free, he gets his glory, and gets to further whatever heinous plan he has in his twisted mind.” Spencer looked thoughtful. “What do you think he's up to, anyway?” He asked. “I don't know, and I don't care.” Tala replied, frowning. “It doesn't involve us, and we'll be long gone. He can take over Russia for all I care. But whatever he wants, he wants it bad enough to let us go in exchange for winning.”

“So let's say we get to Japan, and find these guys” Bryan said. “ What then? We get to know them? Stalk them? Kill them to rid ourselves of the trouble?” Tala laughed. “Well, as much as I would love to eliminate the best of our competition, it would look suspicious if too many of the bladers slated to compete were to be killed off.” “How many are gone now?” Spencer asked. “At the moment, none.” Tala answered. “But that will change soon. I have some feelers out there, and I found out that a few teams are crossing through Russia touring. I figured we could... cross paths.” The three teens exchanged knowing looks, and went about planning their conversation with Boris.


End file.
